


Gifts from Thomas

by avxry



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Breaking Gender Roles, Foster homes, High School AU, Lipstick, M/M, Makeup, Polyamory (implied), Swearing, flirting kind of, pining kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 16:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 11,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8720977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avxry/pseuds/avxry
Summary: Thomas gives him little things; sometimes he doesn't even realize he's doing it. Alexander accidentally catches feelings.





	1. Lipstick

**Author's Note:**

> i feel as if this is incredibly ooc but i wrote it so i wanted to post it. honestly i feel weird writing a high school au because i'm about to graduate and it's like they're younger than me??? which makes me slightly uncomfortable??? but here ya go, i hope it's not as horrible as i think it is
> 
> also: please forgive any typos or formatting errors, i'm copying and pasting from wordpad so ://

Thomas Jefferson wears lipstick. He owns just about every color imaginable, and he knows that he looks good in it.

Alexander Hamilton is definitely not jealous.

When Alexander and Thomas debate in their government class, Alexander has to work especially hard to not just stare at Thomas's lips the entire time. They're beautiful: bright colors, dark colors, matte, glossy. Alexander is always entranced by them.

He really wants lipstick. He really wants that deep red wine color that Thomas is wearing today, spread across his lips, smirking. It's a velvety matte, deep and rich.

Alexander can't buy lipstick. Not only does he not have the money, but he doesn't know what his foster parents, the Washingtons, will think. He's terrified that if they see him, they'll think he's disgusting, or call him names, or make fun of him.

So that's why Alexander follows Thomas into the bathroom between classes, being careful to not be seen. Thomas deposits his backpack by the wall and never even sees Alexander digging around in it to find the lipstick.

He grins to himself when he finds it. He'll return it, of course, after he tries it on. It's a desperate move, and Alexander doesn't like stealing, but it's from Jefferson, so, really, what's the harm?

The warning bell rings and he scurries off to his next class, catching a glimpse of Thomas searching his bag for the lipstick to reapply it.

Classes drone on, and by the end of the day, Alexander is nearly bouncing on his feet. The bell rings and students swarm the halls. Alexander rushes to the bathroom downstairs that nobody ever uses and pulls the lipstick out of his backpack.

He suddenly realizes he doesn't really have a clue how to properly put it on. He shrugs. It can't be that hard.

He drops his bag beside him and pops off the cap, twisting the stick up. He stares at it nervously for a minute, letting his worries flood to the surface. What if he can't get it off? What if someone walks in and sees him and tells someone who tells his foster parents? What if Thomas finds out that he took it?

He takes a deep breath anyway, shaking the thoughts from his mind, and steps up to the mirror, giving himself one last look before pressing the lipstick to his bottom lip.

He drags it along at an achingly slow pace. He wants it to look as good as Thomas's, wants it to be perfect and precise. So far, he's just shaky, the line of lipstick wobbly and the color balance all wrong.  
Suddenly the door to the bathroom opens, and Alexander feels his heart drop. He rushes to grab his bag and slide into a stall, putting the cap back on the lipstick, but before he can, he's spotted.

He stands there like a deer in the headlights, staring at the face of Thomas Jefferson, who is raising an eyebrow, mouth open, ready to fire an insult.

Alexander wants to literally die. This is all wrong, it's all wrong. He never should have taken the lipstick, he doesn't know how it use it anyway, it wouldn't even look good on him, what was he thinking?

He's ready to be yelled at, or punched, or worse, but instead, Thomas just sighs.

"Let me see it," he says, dropping his bag and holding a hand out. Alexander shamefully drops the lipstick into his hand, not meeting his eyes. "Here," Thomas continues, stepping toward him, "look up."

His voice is far too kind, it's unnerving, but Alexander looks up anyway, into Thomas's face, and it, too, is far too kind, if a twinge annoyed.

Thomas pops the lid off the lipstick, taking Alexander's chin in one hand, lifting the lipstick up with the other, and says, "Open."

Alexander's heart is beating out of his chest, but he obeys anyway. Thomas begins dragging the lipstick across his lips with confidence and precision. When he's done, he steps back and snaps the lid back on, nodding at Alexander.  
"Take a look."

Alexander face is burning red, terrified of what's happening, but he does as Thomas says and turns around to face the mirror, and wow. He looks . . . he looks amazing. His lips pop out, bold and velvety. He smiles to himself.

Thomas comes up behind him, looking at him in the mirror with a nod. "This is a good color on you."

Alexander meets his eyes in the mirror, wanting to say something, but he doesn't know what. He's sorry? Thank you? Why? Thomas beats him to it.

"You're annoying as hell, Hamilton," he says, pursing his lips, "but I know how this feels."

Alexander feels as if he's seeing a new side to Thomas, a side that was dexterously hidden from view. He smiles a little, cautiously nodding.

Finally, he mumbles, "I was going to give it back."

Thomas shrugs. "I've got plenty of 'em. Keep it."

Alexander spins around to face him, too close, almost touching. He backs up against the sink and stares at Thomas, confusion written along his face. "Really?"

"It's your color, Hamilton," Thomas responds with a smirk, backing away form him to pick up his backpack and sing it across his shoulders. Without another word, he exits the bathroom, and Alexander is alone.

He turns back to the mirror, looking at his lips. His color, huh?

Yeah. He could see it.


	2. Tissues

Alexander didn't plan on loving lipstick as much as he does. He has only the one color, the deep wine red that Thomas had given him after finding out that Alexander had taken it. He keeps it with him at all times, sometimes taking it out just to look at it and admire it.

He doesn't wear it as much as he wants to. He doesn't wear it at home during the day; his foster parents still don't know. He doesn't wear it at school; someone might tell his foster parents. He wears it only at home late at night, when he knows everyone is asleep. He's always up late doing his homework anyway. He puts it on in front of the bathroom mirror and admires it for a few minutes before doing his work.

His friends don't even know about it. He knows they don't make fun of Thomas for wearing it, but that's because Thomas is good at it. Alexander isn't. What if he puts it on and they laugh at him?

But he longs to wear it every day, every time he passes a mirror. In the mornings, brushing his teeth, he looks up at himself and wishes he could just put it on and walk downstairs as if nothing is different. In the bathroom at school, he wishes he could stand there in the open and put it on, walking back into the halls confidently.

One day, after school, he decides to wear it on his walk home. He'll wipe it off before he actually goes inside, of course, but he really just wants to wear it out.

He goes into the downstairs bathroom at school, the same one in which Thomas gave him the lipstick in the first place, and puts it on his lips carefully. He's gotten better at it since the first time.

The door opens, and Alexander feels a sudden rush of de ja vu as Thomas Jefferson walks in. He startles, worried that Thomas's intitial kindness was a one-time-only deal, but Thomas's face doesn't look as scathing as he imagined.

"I thought you lost it," Thomas comments, raising an eyebrow at Alexander, who finishes the application and tucks the lipstick in his pocket.

He turns around to face Thomas, not meeting his eyes. "No, I just . . . can't . . ."

"I get it," Thomas says with a little shrug. "I was the same way."

Alexander swallows thickly and raises his eyebrows bashfully at Thomas. "You were?"

Thomas nods and walks to the urinal. "Yep. Didn't know how people would react."

"You don't seem like the kind of person to be afraid of anything."

Thomas snorts, zips his pants, and turns around, heading to the sink. "Hamilton, you don't know a damn thing about me."

Alexander regains a bit of his confidence as Thomas washes his hands. He says haughtily, "I know your opinions are terrible and uneducated."

"Well, that's your opinion," Thomas chides, grabbing some paper towels and drying his hands, tossing the wad into the trash.

"I'm right a lot of the time," Alexander argues, stepping back as they pass.

"Not about this," Thomas says, and something in his voice says that the conversation is over. He walks toward the door. Alexander wants to trail after him, but his legs won't move. The lipstick on his face is like an anchor, grounding him to the safety of the bathroom.

Thomas raises an eyebrow, his hand on the handle of the door. He turns back to Alexander. "You coming?"

Thomas is really asking, "Are you ready to walk outside with makeup on?" and Alexander isn't sure if the answer is yes. He takes a deep breath, staring at the door as if it might grow fangs and bite him.

Thomas gives him a sympathetic look and a sigh. He nods his head toward the door. "C'mon, Hamilton. I'll walk you home."

Alexander looks at him nervously. After a moment of consideration, he complies, following Thomas out into the hall. There aren't many students, just a few, but Alexander feels their stares. He can objectively see that they aren't mean or judgmental stares, but it feels like it, nonetheless.

Thomas nudges his shoulder with his own and gives him a reassuring look, and Alexander feels a little less terrified.

They walk through the main hall, Thomas's arm brushing his own occasionally to reassure him, and they make it out despite the bit of attention they get.

Alexander doesn't live far from the school. They share at the sidewalk in silence, Alexander growing more confident as the moments pass.

They reach a corner, around which is Alexander's house, and he stops in his tracks, surprising Thomas.

"What is it?" Thomas asks, not rudely, genuinely concerned, and Alexander tries to not think about that.

Alexander stutters, "I - uh, haven't told . . ."

Thomas nods in understanding and reaches into his backpack, pulling out a pack of tissues. "Take these," he says, holding them out. "I had to do it, too."

Alexander lets himself wonder why Thomas is doing all of this form him, but he takes the tissues anyway, opening them and using one to wipe the lipstick off.

"Am I good?" he asks quietly.

"Hold on," Thomas answers, stepping closer and reaching out to take the tissue from him. He brings it up to his lips and wipes the corners gently. Alexander feels his heartbeat in his chest. They're so close now, and this is strangely intimate, standing on a sidewalk and staring at Thomas's face.

"There," Thomas says, quietly, taking a small step backward, and Alexander tries to not think about why that bothers him.

Alexander finds himself whispering, "Why are you doing this for me?"

Thomas looks down at him genuinely, sympathetically. "I know how it feels."

"How what feels?"

"Wanting something you can't have."

Alexander has to wonder if they're still talking about the lipstick. They're still achingly close, warmth between them, their eyes locked. Alexander swallows thickly.

It takes too long for him to say, "I have to get home."

Thomas lets out a soft sigh and nods, stepping back, and the moment is gone. Alexander misses it already.

"See you tomorrow, Hamilton."

"Thank you," Alexander calls as Thomas is walking away.

Thomas turns around with a little smile. "You're welcome."

Alexander looks at the pack of tissues still in his hand, wondering what the hell just happened. He sighs, tucks them in his pocket, rounds the corner to his house.

He still doesn't think Thomas was talking about the lipstick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm honestly just such a sucker for jefferson with lipstick???


	3. Confidence

Alexander is doing it. He is wearing lipstick, walking through the doors to the main hall, merging into the crowd. No one is looking at him yet, but when the first person does, several others follow.

In reality, there are only a few students looking at him, raising their eyebrows and mumbling to their friends about him, but it feels like much more, and Alexander is on the verge of bolting back out the door.

Before he can turn around, something warm slips into his hand. He startles and turns to his side to see Thomas, holding his hand and giving him a reassuring look.

Perhaps the fact that he's holding hands with Thomas Jefferson will draw away from the fact that he's wearing lipstick.

Thomas gives him a little smile and begins walking, tugging him along down the hallways. "How does it feel?"

"What?"

"How does it feel?" Thomas asks again, raising his eyebrows and looking down down Alexander.

He lets out a huff of a laugh and shrugs. "I don't know yet."

Thomas grins a little. "It'll sink in."

They walk in silence, Thomas leading Alexander to his locker. Alexander still feels eyes on him, but Thomas is a steady anchor, gripping him in reality. They stop at his locker and he pulls out his math book, hand still clasped in Thomas's.

"Jefferson?" a voice calls out from behind them, and they both turn to see John Laurens walking toward them. "What are you doing -"

John raises his eyebrows when he sees Alexander's lipstick, then furrows them when he sees their hands. "Something I should know about?"

Alexander looks at him nervously. "John -"

"Are you two together?" John asks, confusion laced in his voice.

"No!" Alexander exclaims, tearing his hand away from Thomas's. "No, he was just -"

"I was helping him," Thomas interjects smoothly. "People were staring."

John gives them both another look, but shakes his head and turns to look directly at Alexander, grinning widely. "It's 'cause you're hot, Hamilton!"

Alexander feels blush rise to his cheeks as he looks down to hide his face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," John agrees, cuffing him on the shoulder. "I didn't know you wore lipstick."

"I don't, usually," Alexander admits with a nervous shrug, still not meeting John's eyes. "But Jefferson gave me some, so I just . . ."

John raises another eyebrow at Thomas. "You gave him lipstick?"

"Technically, he stole it," Thomas replies, waving his hand about, "but he looked good in it, so I let him keep it."

John eyes him carefully, trying to decipher just what was going on with Jefferson and why he was being so nice. Finally, he nods at him and says, "That's nice of you."

Thomas shrugs, acting as if it's no big deal. Then he turns back to Alexander. "Speaking of," he says with a glint in his eye, his lips forming a little smile as he reaches into the small pocket of his backpack, "here."

He pulls something out and drops it into Alexander's outstretched hand. Alexander looks up at him in surprise, then looks down at his hand. Thomas had given him another tube of lipstick, this time a dusty rose color. Alexander's eyes go wide.

"Thomas -"

"It'll look good on you," Thomas nods with a wry smile. They share a look, and Thomas says, "I'll see you in government."

"Yeah," Alexander agrees, almost in a daze as Thomas back away. "Thank you!"

"You're welcome," Thomas replies, almost too softly, and Alexander watches him turn on his heel and walk away, breath catching in his throat.

He's brought back to reality by John's voice, saying, "What's up with him?"

Alexander shakes his head, "I don't know."

He looks down at the lipstick in his hands, and suddenly he finds that he can hold his head a little, square his shoulders off a little more.

John gives him a weird look, but he just grins. He can't wait to try the lipstick on. Maybe he'll do it at the end of the day, in the bathroom. Maybe Thomas will show up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is such a cliche i'm sorry ??


	4. Tips

Alexander says goodbye to his friends at the end of the day, waving as they clambor outside to get to Lafayette's car. Alexander chuckles to himself again as he descends the stairs, making his way to the bathroom.

He swings open the door and is relieved to find it empty once more. He drops his bag against the wall and takes a wad of toilet paper, folding it and wiping it across his lips, removing the wine color quickly. He wets the paper slightly and rubs his lips gently, making sure every trace of the lipstick is gone.

He tosses the damp paper into the garbage and waits a minute for the swelling in his lips to go down. He pulls the dusty rose lipstick out of the little pocket in his backpack and takes off the lid, twisting it up and admiring the point of the stick.

He turns back to the mirror and steps up close, applying the lipstick carefully, making sure the corners of his cupid's bow are perfect and the outline of his bottom lip is precise. He backs up from the mirror when he's done, smiling to himself.

Is it possible to literally fall in love with an object? The dusty rose color complements his skin tone, softly drawing attention to his lips, making them look fuller.

"I'd kiss me," Alexander mumbles to himself with a grin.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Alexander jumps nearly a foot in the air, spinning around to see Thomas standing just in front of the door with a smirk on his face. His lips are decorated in a deep brown color, fading to pink on the inside, and Alexander really can't stop staring at them.

"When did you come in here?" he demands, but there's no force behind it. He had secretly been hoping Thomas would show up.

"Just now," Thomas shrugs, walking further into the bathroom. He lifts his eyebrows and looks at Alexander's lips. He nods in approval. "It looks nice." There's a twinge in his voice.

Alexander grins, blush creeping up on his cheeks. "Thanks."

Thomas keeps looking at his lips, and Alexander is frozen under his gaze. They're quiet for a minute, and Alexander finally takes a breath and says, "How do you do that?"

Thomas raises an eyebrow, snapping out of his stupor. "Do what?"

"The fading thing," Alexander replies with a nod, pointing up at Thomas's lips.

"Oh," Thomas says in understanding, "it's easy. Put the light color in the middle, the dark color on the outside, and blend it."

Alexander looks at him as if he has two heads.

Thomas chuckles to himself. "I'll show you. Where's your other color?"

Alexander returns to his backpack and digs around his messy pocket before pulling out the red wine lipstick, lifting it up to show Thomas, who takes it and opens it, twisting it up.

"Hold still," he murmurs, taking a step closer and holding Alexander's face in his hand, and Alexander remembers standing on the sidewalk as Thomas wiped lipstick off his mouth, and his heart starts pumping again.

Thomas dabs the dark red color along the outside of his lips, getting the corners and the tips of his cupid's bow, and Alexander tries to stop looking at Thomas's lips. He never thought he'd think this, but he kind of wishes he could just lean up, just barely, and brush their lips together softly, but fortunately, Thomas lets go of his face before he can do someting he'd regret.

Thomas puts the cap back on the lipstick and places it on the sink. He reaches up again and begins to blend the colors together with his thumb softly, and Alexander can barely breathe.

"Rub 'em together," Thomas commands gently, whispering. Alexander does as he says, rolling his lips together. Thomas smiles down at him. "Check it out."

It takes Alexander a moment to actually turn away and look in the mirror. When he does, he can't stop staring at his own lips. They're perfectly blended, looking professional, and Alexander feels something stir inside him.

"I'm pretty," he says, mostly to himself, but Thomas smiles softly beside him.

"You are."

Alexander turns back to look at Thomas, still standing close. Their eyes meet, and Alexander almost does that something he'd regret, but Thomas smiles and steps away.

"See you tomorrow, Hamilton," he says, something strange in his voice.

"See you," Alexander echoes as Thomas leaves him alone in the bathroom. He turns back to the mirror, lightly tracing his fingers across his lips, where Thomas had been touching them only moments before.

He couldn't stop thinking about Thomas's fingers on his skin the entire walk home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i also really love lipstick very a lot


	5. Advice

Alexander doesn't take the lipstick off on his way home, snapping a few pictures of his faded lip color. His foster parents had said that they'd be out running errands today, so Alexander cheerfully unlocks the front door and walks into the house, lipstick still in place.

He heads to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, not expecting to see his foster mother, Martha Washington sitting at the table. She looks up at him over her book with a smile, saying, "Hello, Alexan -"

She stops, caught off guard by Alexander's makeup.

Alexander, himself, feels his heart stop, dropping to the floor as his face goes red. He doesn't give Martha a chance to ask about it before he dashes out of the kitchen and up the stairs, locking himself in his bedroom, hurriedly rubbing the lipstick off with his shirt sleeve. He feels tears well up in his eyes.

He should have known, he never should have worn it so publicly, now they were going to send him to another foster home, just like the last one did, and he was going to be alone and it was all because he had to go and want to put on some stupid lipstick. He lets a few tears fall, wiping them messily with his hands.

Before he knows what he's doing, he pulls out his phone and opens the Messenger app, searching a name and hitting the call button. It rings three times.

"Hamilton? Nobody uses Messenger to make calls -"

"Martha saw me," he stutters out, his voice cracking a little. He can practically hear Thomas's confusion on the other end of the line.

"Martha?"

"My foster mom."

"And you were wearing the lipstick?"

Alexander nods, sniffing, then realizes Thomas can't see him. "Yeah."

Thomas sucks in a deep breath. "What did she say?"

"She didn't," Alexander says, feeling more tears coming. He walks over to his bed and curls up against the wall, rubbing his nose with his sleeve. "I left before she could say anything."

"Why?"

"I didn't want her to yell at me," Alexander admits quietly, sounding small. He wraps his free arm around his knees, tucking them close to his chest.

"Why would she yell at you?" Thomas asks, his voice laced with concern.

Alexander sniffles again. "Because I was wearing lipstick."

"So?"

"So, boys don't do that," Alexander grumbles, fiddling with the hem off his shirt sleeve.

"Sure, they do," Thomas replies reassuringly. "Boys, girls, everybody else. All genders can wear lipstick."

"What if they don't think so?"

"Could you convince them?"

"I don't know," Alexander confesses quietly. "What if they send me away?"

"Would they really do that?"

"They could."

"But would they?"

Alexander considers this for a moment. The Washingtons had always been especially kind and understanding, and they know Alexander is bisexual - Martha herself is asexual. They had been exceptionally accepting since the beginning. But doubt still tugs at Alexander's brain; he really cares about the Washingtons. He doesn't want to lose them.

"I don't know."

There's a pause. "There's only one way to find out."

At that moment, there's a knock at his bedroom door. "Alexander," sounds the voice of George Washington, "come out here, son."

Alexander's head snaps up at the jolting noise. He gathers his wits, steeling himself for rejection, then sighs determinedly. "Thank you, Thomas."

"Let me know what happens."

Alexander hangs up, stuffs his phone in his pocket and walking to the door. He unlocks and opens it nervously, a pit forming in his belly. He looks up at George Washington, who is giving him a worried expression.

"Are you alright, son?"

Alexander nods carefully, looking down at the floor.

"Martha said you had some lipstick on," George says gently. "Is that why you're upset?"

Alexander nods again, glancing up at George through his lashes, scanning his face for anger or judgment.

"She said it looked very nice."

Alexander's head snaps up entirely. "She did?"

"Mhm," George nods, a little smile forming on his lips. "She didn't get a chance to tell you before you ran off."

Alexander's face burns red. He looks down again bashfully. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," George comforts him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "You can talk to us about these things, you know."

Alexander nods once more, looking back up to face George. "Thanks."

George gives him a nod and a gentle smile, patting his shoulder. He's about to say something else, but Martha charges up the stairs and stops right beside him saying, "Alexander, honey, I was waiting to run those errands to see if you wanted to join me."

Alexander smiles at her and nods. "Yeah, sure."

There's a twinkle in her eye as she adds, "Maybe we could stop by the drugstore, too. I saw some really nice shades of lipstick there yesterday."

Alexander feels his heart soar. He grins so hugely that George lets out a chuckle.

Martha tells him they'll be leaving in just a few minutes. She and George go back downstairs, and before changing into a clean shirt, Alexander pulls out his phone and sends a text to Thomas:

Martha offered to buy me more lipstick.

It takes only a moment to get a response.

I recommend a glossy peach.

Alexander can hear the underlying relief in Thomas's text. He grins to himself. He'll see if the drugstore has a glossy peach.


	6. Aid

Alexander stalks into his government class, lipstick on boldly. Martha has bought him the glossy peach color he pointed out. It shines and shimmers, and when he catches Thomas's eye, he thinks he sees him smile softly.

He takes his seat and waits for the teacher, Mr. King, to start the lesson. Alexander takes out his notebook and a pen in preparation.

Mr. King begins by detailing today's lesson, the U.S. Constituation and all its flaws. Alexander rolls his eyes, steeling himself for yet another debate (not necessarily with Thomas, he knows that Thomas likes the Constitution, but he always finds something anyway).

Before the lesson even begins, though, Mr. King shows a malicious grin and offhandedly comments, "Maybe Miss Hamilton will have some thoughts on it."

Alexander doesn't miss the jab. Miss. He feels his cheeks burn, hiding his face. There are a few snickers around the room. He wants to be anywhere but here, he should have known this would happen, why did he think this was a good idea?

He wants to leave, but he can't admit defeat. He feels an argument bubbling up inside him, but it won't come out.

Luckily, it doesn't have to. Thomas calls out, "You and Mr. Hamilton undoubtedly have plenty of thoughts, but at least he looks good saying them."

The entire class turns to look at Thomas in surprise. They all know that Thomas is not above insulting teachers, but they all had assumed that Thomas would never defend Alexander Hamilton.

Alexander feels himself smile a little, still hiding his face.

Mr. King glares at Thomas, but instead of retaliating, he simply continues on with the lesson, setting up the powerpoint. He still throws Alexander ugly looks every few minutes, but he doesn't make any more jokes.

When class is over, Alexander leaves the room and stops outside the door, grabbing Thomas's elbow when he walks out.

"Hey," he says, pulling Thomas to the side. Thomas follows obediently, looking at Alexander questioningly. "Thanks."

Thomas shrusg, a small smile showing. "Mr. King is a dick."

"Yeah," Alexander agrees with a nervous chuckle. His nerves are still a little on edge.

Thomas looks down at him softly. "It looks good," he murmurs reassuringly, and Alexander looks up at him, their eyes locking.

"You're just complimenting your own fashion taste," he jokes, and Thomas chuckles.

"I'm nothing if not fashionable," Thomas replies, readjusting his bag on his shoulder. He cuffs Alexander on the arm. "I'll see you later, Hamilton."

There's something flowing between them. It ebbs away as Thomas turns and walks in the direction of his next class.

"See you later."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is really short and bad i apologize


	7. Feelings

Alexander has come down with a case of the feelings. Sitting at lunch with his friends, he tries to concentrate on their conversation about the English paper due next week, but instead he just keeps staring across the cafeteria.

Thomas is sitting with James Madison and John Adams, but none of them are talking. They're poking at their food silently. After a moment, Madison says something and Thomas gives him a glare, but then Madison just chuckles, and they're back to not speaking.

"Earth to Alex," John interrupts his train of thought. Alexander snaps back to reality.

"What?"

Lafayette raises an eyebrow. "You were staring at Thomas."

"Was not."

"You got it bad, man," Hercules laughs, shaking his head and taking a bite of mashed potatoes.

"I do not," Alexander grumbles, but he thinks back to his recent encounters with Thomas. Something is brewing between them, but he's reluctant to admit what it is. He pushes it away.

"You really do," John comments, but he's smiling softly. "It's cute."

"I don't have a crush on Jefferson," Alexander defends firmly, but he doesn't really believe himself either.

"What even happened?" Lafayette asks, running a hand through their hair absently. "I thought you hated each other."

"We do."

"Lies," John teases, giving Alexander a look. "C'mon, we're not judging you."

"Eh," Hercules shrugs, then laughs when Lafayette slaps his arm.

"Honestly, Alexander," Lafayette continues, still glaring at Hercules. "You can trust us."

Alexander looks at each of them in turn. He can tell that they're being honest. He sighs. "He gave me some lipstick."

All three of them raise their eyebrows. Hercules says, "That's all it takes? If someone gives you lipstick, you just automatically fall in love with them?"

He's joking, but Alexander rolls his eyes. "I'm not in love with him," he denies adamantly, then purses his lips. "I don't know, it's just . . . a thing."

"A thing?" John questions unsurely.

Alexander nods with a shrug. "I stole his lipstick, and he found me with it, and then he put it on me -"

"He put it on you?" Lafayette exclaims, then shrinks down from how loud they spoke. "Alexander, I think you are not the only one with a crush." Their voice is suggestive, and Alexander shakes his head.

"No," he says, "I just didn't know how to do it. He was helping me."

Hercules gives him a withering look. "Alex, even my naive ass knows Jefferson has a thing for you."

"You're not that naive," John scolds jokingly, nudging him with his shoulder, and Hercules rolls his eyes with a grin.

"You're not complaining," he mumbles suggestively, John going red.

"Save it for the bedroom," Lafayette laughs, feigning bitterness.

"See you there," John winks, and Alexander lets out a whistle.

"Okay, I've had enough," he says, throwing his hands up, and they all let out a laugh.

"Whatever," John says with a wave of his hand. "You and Jefferson have this whole hate-love thing going on, and it's adorable."

"It's not adorable," Alexander groans, "it's frustrating."

"Do not worry," Lafayette shrugs, nuding Alexander shoulder. "It will happen eventually." They mumble something under their breath, but Alexander doesn't catch it.

Alexander sighs and refocuses his gaze to Thomas across the cafeteria. It will happen eventually. Hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> herc/john/laf is l i f e but also i love alex/herc/john/laf more than most things in the world so??? ALSO ALSO IF YOU LOVE OT4 TOO THEN GO READ THE SERIES 1-800-DID-I-ASK 
> 
> IT STARTS OUT LIKE CRACK BUT IT'S SO GOOD AND HAS SO MANY ACCOMPANYING FICS AND IT'S THE MOST BEAUTIFUL SERIES, I'VE REREAD IT ABOUT FOUR TIMES, IT'S PERFECT


	8. A Yes

Alexander returns to the bathroom downstairs when the bell rings, trying to convince himself that he doesn't hope that Thomas will show up too. He navigates the halls and the crowds, smiling, now, when people notice his lipstick.

When he enters the bathroom, Thomas is already inside, reapplying his own lipstick in front of the mirror. He smiles when he sees Alexander, just a little.

Alexander doesn't say anything, just smiles back, pushing away the butterflies and approaching the mirror to fix his glossy peach lipstick.

He hardly even knows that he's spoken when he asks, "Do you want to come to dinner at my house tonight?"

Thomas looks over at Alexander in slight surprise, snapping the lipstick lid back on. "Tonight?"

Alexander's brain stutters, still not sure why he even offered in the first place. "Um, I mean, you don't have to, it's short notice -"

"I'll text my parents," Thomas replies, a smirk playing on their lips. Alexander expects that the promise is empty, that Thomas will never text and later give an excuse as to why he couldn't come, but Thomas actually pulls out his phone right there and types something out, nodding when he's done.

Alexander gives them a smile and doesn't know what to say. He pretends to keep fixing his lipstick, dragging a fingertip along the bottom edge. He feels Thomas beside him, watching. His cheeks burn pink.

"What?" he says, phrasing it like a joke, a teasing lilt in his voice.

Thomas tries to hide a smile. "Nothing," he says, shaking his head.

"Then stop staring," Alexander demands, but he's still smiling a little, face still flushing.

"Have you ever tried mascara?"

"What? Like the line around your eye?"

Thomas laughs and shakes his head. "No, mascara is for your eyelashes."

"Oh," Alexander says eloquently, feeling embarrassed. "No."

"It'd look good," Thomas comments, seemingly offhandedly, but Alexander blushes anyway. Thomas continues, "I don't have any, since I don't need it -" Alexander realizes that he really doesn't, wow "- but if you want to try it, I'll see what I can do."

Alexander's eyes go a little wide at the offer. "Oh, no - no, really, you don't -"

He's caught off guard by a buzzing coming from Thomas's pocket - his phone. He grins, holds up a finger, and pulls out his cell.

Thomas looks up with a smile. "They said yes," he says, and Alexander is simultaneously relieved and anxious. "Did you want me to come over at dinner or just join you now?"

Alexander curses himself when he says, "You can come on now, if you want."

Thomas grins impossibly wider. "Sure."

They walk out, making polite conversation as Alexander wonders why he thought this would be a good idea.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's almost done, i promise, i've just got maybe three chapters left?? not totally sure but it won't be long now. thank you for reading this far, and i promise i'll get it up as soon as i can!!!


	9. His Sweater

The Washingtons are extraordinarily welcoming, especially seeing as they didn't even know they'd be having company. When Alexander and Thomas had walked into the kitchen, Alexander slightly nervously, Martha had just smiled warmly at the pair, greeted Thomas like an old friend, and offered them a snack.

George had walked in just a few minutes after, emerging from the backyard (he tends to his garden nearly religiously) to greet them cheerfully. He is secretly incredibly pleased that the two are finally getting along, and he and Martha both are happy to have him over.

After a plate of pizza rolls each and a conversation with the Washingtons, Alexander and Thomas retreat to the backyard to sit under George's prized fig tree, backpacks dropped in front of them.

"Have you done the government homework yet?" Alexander asks, desperately trying to come up with something interesting to talk about.

"The study guide thing?" Thomas asks, shuffling around his backpack. "Not even a little."

"Really?" Alexander replies, grabbing his math textbook from his bag. "I finished it last night. It's really easy."

"It's due, like, next week," Thomas comments with a raised eyebrow, giving Alexander a look that clearly says that he's crazy. "I'll probably do it tomorrow or something."

Alexander shrugs. "I like to be prepared."

Thomas peers over at Alexander's math book, now open to the page where his homework sits. He gives Alexander a withering look. "You do, do you?"

When Alexander nods, Thomas scoffs. "I know for a fact that that homework was due Monday."

Alexander's face flushes slightly, bringing his book closer to his chest defensively. "I suck at pre-cal, okay? You've found my one flaw."

"You've got plenty of flaws," Thomas jokes, tossing his backpack aside. "Pre-cal shouldn't be one of them." Alexander glares, but Thomas leans over to look at his paper, then grins. "You're in luck."

"Oh, I am?" Alexander replies sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

"You are," Thomas confirms, "because I'm great at limits."

Alexander finds himself smiling a little, and then Thomas delves into an explanation of limits and derivatives, something about a variable approaching zero and tangent lines. It really doesn't make much sense, but that's fine, because Alexander isn't really paying attention. He's watching Thomas, whose eyes light up a little when he asks a question.

Thomas jumps to an answer quickly, explaining in depth very quickly. Alexander wonders if this is what he's like when he goes off on rants about politics or policies.

Thomas keeps explaining until the sun is going down and it's getting too cold to be outside. He's talked himself into three different actual parts of pre-cal, somehow ending up detailing the workings of polar coordinates. He's probably a good teacher, but Alexander wouldn't know. The only thing he really learned from the entire experience is that he definitely has a crush on Thomas, and it definitely sucks.

Alexander wanted to suggest that they go in when he gets a chill, but Thomas notices before he says anything, and instead of offering to go inside, he just pulls a sweater out of his bag and tosses it to him, continuing his spiel without missing a beat. Alexander grins to himself a little, trying to hide it.

George calls them inside for dinner just after dark. Thomas finally stops talking about math long enough to pack up his bag and stand, offering a hand to Alexander, who takes it with a shy little smile.

George had ordered pizza, so they all sit at the dinner table, chatting animatedly. Thomas sits beside Alexander, who is still wearing his sweater, which is far too big on him, falling halfway down his thighs and giving him enormous sweater paws, but he doesn't mind.

George and Martha share a quiet, knowing look at the sight, but they don't comment, just set the pizza on the table and make pleasant conversation. Martha asks Thomas about his school and his family, and Thomas answers charmingly.

And Alexander is definitely charmed. As he's eating, all he can think about is Thomas's sweater, and how he wished it meant just a little more than it did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i've reflected on my statement about it probably only being a few more chapters, and then I started chapter 10 and it went in a direction that i hadn't intended so i'm either going to scrap that chapter and rewrite it a different way or keep it and make it longer??? idk i'll keep you posted 
> 
> anyway, thanks for reading again!!


	10. Hope

After dinner, Thomas announces that he should probably get home, though his voice makes it sound as if he would rather not. He glances over at Alexander, who smiles at him just a little.

 

George and Martha share another look.

 

"You're welcome to stay the night, if you want," Martha offers, seemingly off-handedly, but the glint in her eye suggests otherwise. "I think one of our sons left some old clothes here that would fit you."

 

Thomas looks a little surprised at the offer. George jumps in quickly, "You don't have to, of course."

 

Thomas steals a glance at Alexander, discreetly seeing how he feels about the proposition. Alexander seems a little nervous maybe, but he actually rather likes the idea. He selfishly would love Thomas to stay longer.

 

"I could ask my parents," Thomas replies with a little smile. "If you're sure it's okay."

 

"Absolutely," Martha beams at him, and she stands from the dinner table, taking her plate, along with George's.

 

He gives her a loving, "Thank you, Martha," and turns back to the boys, an eyebrow raised. "Now, I see what's going on with you two," he says sternly, looking at each of them in turn, stopping on Thomas. "If you stay overnight, there will be no funny business."

 

"Sir!" Alexander exclaims in embarrassment, his entire face going red. Thomas's is doing the same.

 

George is not affected. "I mean it," he continues. But then he graces them with a dazzling smile, a jarring change from before. "But don't let that keep you from staying."

 

He stands then and joins Martha in the kitchen. Alexander and Thomas are left sitting at the dinner table, cheeks flushing.

 

Alexander swallows thickly, not meeting Thomas's eyes. "Uh, sorry. About that."

 

Thomas doesn't meet Alexander's eyes either, but when he speaks, his mortification is less apparent. "It's fine," he says, as if blowing off the entire experience. He takes a deep breath, then asks, "Would you mind if I stayed?" He finally looks over at Alexander. "Because I don't have to if you don't want me to."

 

Alexander shakes his head, looking up at Thomas. "No, it's fine. If you want."

 

Their eyes meet momentarily, and Thomas smiles, just a little bit, at the corner of his lips. "I'll call my parents."

 

Thomas departs from the table and exits the room, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Alexander watches as he goes, trying to keep even more blush from rising on his cheeks. After a moment, he cleans the remainder of the table, taking the dishes into the kitchen where Martha and George are talking quietly.

 

He stops before he's seen.

 

"It's cute, isn't it?" Martha says, and he can practically hear the smile in her voice. He hears the fridge open.

 

"I'm just glad they seem to be getting along," George comments. The fridge door shuts. "With how much Alex complained about him, I'm surprised they've lasted more than a minute."

 

Martha's giggle rings through the room. "George, I love you, but you can be so clueless."

 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

 

"Alex always had a little crush on Thomas," she replies knowingly, a smile evident in her voice. "He just didn't know it."

 

"That can't be right," George says.

 

"I know what I'm talking about," Martha says. There's a sound of clanking dishes, and Alexander chooses this moment to walk into the room before he can hear anything else that embarrasses him further.

 

"Thanks for dinner," he says with a smile. Both of them smile back at him.

 

"Of course," Martha replies, taking the dishes from him and placing them in the sink. She washes her hands as she says, "I hope you don't mind that I invited Thomas to stay." There's something hidden in her voice, a suspicious little smile on her lips.

 

"It's fine," Alexander smiles back at her, trying to think about how he would react if he hadn't just heart her conversation with George.

 

"And I'm sorry if I embarrassed you," George adds, placing a hand on his shoulder. "But I'm serious -"

 

"Nothing is going to happen," Alexander interrupts defiantly, blush once again crawling up his neck.

 

George chuckles and walks off into the sitting room, kissing Martha on the cheek in passing. Martha smiles at him warmly as he exits.

 

"Is Thomas asking his parents?" she asks Alexander, who nods. She nods back.

 

Alexander quickly washes up the dishes beside Martha, who dries them and puts them away. When they're done, Thomas enters the kitchen and announces that his parents gave him permission to stay.

 

Martha smiles, pats him on the shoulder, and leaves to go find some clothes that her eldest son had left behind.

 

Alexander tries not to feel awkward as he leads Thomas up the stairs and into his room, regretfully remembering that it's a mess.

 

"Sorry," he says as they enter, "I haven't cleaned up."

 

Thomas smiles at the sight. "It's fine." It's not even really messy; there are books lying around, some papers here and there, a flannel draped across a desk chair, and mussed up bed sheets.

 

Alexander plops onto his mattress, motioning for Thomas to do the same. They're quiet for a minute, neither knowing what to say. This is entirely uncharted territory. They've only recently become actual friends, and now Thomas is staying the night? How did they get here?

 

In order to not feel so out of place, Alexander pulls out his phone and opens his messaging app, tapping on his group chat with John, Lafayette, and Hercules.

 

He types, _Thomas is staying the night at my house tonight?_

 

Almost immediately, Lafayette responds, _I told you!_

 

Hercules says, _John and I both say we told  you so_.

 

Lafayette cuts in to reply, _Where are you two? You're both supposed to be at my house by now._

 

John suddenly answers, _We got distracted ;)._

Alexander types out, _Please stop I'm already uncomfortable enough with Thomas sitting beside me._

 

Lafayette says, _Stop texting and talk to him!_

 

Hercules responds, _Just kiss him or something._

 

John agrees, _Yeah, worked for the three of us._

 

Alexander rolls his eyes a little, then sees Thomas looking at him discreetly. He blushes a little and types back, _I have to go, please keep your grossness out of this chat_.

 

Lafayette says, _No promises_ , and Alexander nearly groans, shutting his phone off. He turns to Thomas. "So," he says.

 

Thomas fights a grin. "So."

 

Alexander rolls his lips, clicking hs tongue a little, feeling awkward and out of place. "This is weird," he finally comments, and Thomas laughs with a nod.

 

"Just a little."

 

There's some more awkward silence, until it's broken when George approaches the doorway. "I have those clothes," he says, placing them on Alexander's desk. Before he leaves, he eyes them sternly, pointing a finger at each of them in turn, "No funny business." He backs out of the room, and the pair are even more embarrassed now.

 

Alexander laughs nervously. "They can be a little . . . protective."

 

Thomas shakes his head with a little smile. "It's nice. They care."

 

Alexander nods thoughtfully, his own smile forming. "It is nice."

 

They delve back into the quiet, the only sound coming from the washing machine downstairs rattling gently. Alexander shifts awkwardly, tugging the sleeves of his sweater down over his hands before he remembers it's Thomas's.

 

"Oh!" he exclaims, looking up at Thomas and preparing to take the sweater off. "Here, this is yours -"

 

"Keep it," Thomas smiles, putting a hand up. "It looks nice on you."

 

Alexander blushes furiously and directs his gaze down toward the floor. _Was Thomas flirting? Why was he complimenting him? Why was he being so nice?_

 

Alexander, of course, has never had any real brain-to-mouth filter, which explains his next question. "Do you like me?"

 

Thomas startles, eyes going wide and the cutest blush forming on his cheeks. "What?"

 

Alexander realizes his mistake and tries to backtrack. "I - I mean - that's not what I - uh -"

 

Alexander cuts himself off, not knowing where he was going with that train of thought. _This is it_ , he thinks, _I've ruined everything. Shocker. Way to go, Alex. Real nice_.

 

"I don't know."

 

Alexander's head snaps up at Thomas's answer. "What?"

 

"I don't know," Thomas repeats, and Alexander notices how uncomfortable he looks. His fingers are fidgeting with the hem of his shirt and his eyes are directed at his feet.

 

Alexander takes a breath and swallows thickly. "I don't know either."

 

Thomas looks over at him with cautious confusion and suspicion in his glance. He narrows his eyes. "Is this some kind of joke?"

 

Alexander's eyes go wide. He shakes his head furiously. "No! No, I just - this is weird."

 

"Yeah," Thomas says. After a moment, he laughs bitterly. "I hated you."

 

"Same," Alexander agrees, chuckling to himself.

 

They both find themselves giggling ridiculously at the whole situation and how strange it was. Neither of them had expected anything like this to happen. Alexander had never imagined he would be laughing with _Thomas Jefferson_ in his bedroom any time soon. The craziness of this turn of events is not lost on them.

 

Their eyes meet as their laughs die down. Alexander jokes, "No funny business," and Thomas lets out a scoff of a laugh and shakes his head.

 

"No funny business," he confirms, eyes sparkling.

 

And Alexander realizes that Thomas has given him a lot recently. But just now? Just now, Thomas has given him hope. How about that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry this has taken so long, i have zero energy stressing about college and my last few days in high school and just everything in general, thank you for being patient, i hope to finish this soon


	11. A Place

Alexander basically just doesn't sleep, as a general rule, so, of course, when Thomas passes out at the foot of his bed at midnight, he's still wide awake.

He sighs. Thomas is . . . Well. He doesn't know what Thomas is as a whole, but right now, Thomas is adorable, curled up underneath a throw blanket with a spare pillow, in clothes that aren't his, curly hair bushing out and framing his face, so often jagged and harsh but now soft and sweet.

Alexander wants to kiss him. It should be a strange wish, but honestly, nothing about himslf could surprise him anymore. He's just kind of accepted his fate at this point.

He opens up his group chat with Herc, Laf, and John, knowing that they would also still be awake.

He types, _I'm screwed._

Lafayette is the first to reply: _If this is about Thomas I swear._

John immediately chimes in, _Of course it is._

Alexander rolls his eyes. _Shut up._

_Why exactly are you screwed?_ Hercules asks, ever the one to stay on topic.

Alex sighs to himself as he types. _It's Jefferson._

_Knew it_ , John says.

_Did you kiss him?_ Lafayette questions. Their eagerness can be felt through Alexander's screen.

_No I didn't kiss him_ , Alexander replies, rolling his eyes, wondering how Lafayette knew just what to say to get his cheeks to turn pink.

_But you want to_ , Hercules jumps in, then adds, _That's the problem right?_

Alexander sighs to himself in a horribly dramatic way and wonders if he'll regret sending, _Yep._

John and Lafayette reply with an onslaught of _I KNEW IT_ s and _I TOTALLY SAW IT COMING_ s, and Alexander decides, yes, he does regret it.

Hercules finds a way to get his two cents in there. _So just do it._

Alexander wishes Hercules were here so he could glare at him. He glares at his screen instead. _Yeah, let me just do that._

Hercules insists, _Seriously, that's what John did with us._

Alexander squints to himself, wondering if Hercules knows how ridiculous he sounds right now. _Herc, we're not you three, we're barely even friends._

Alexander can practically feel Lafayette rolling their eyes as they reply, _He is sleeping in your bed. You are friends._

John's cheeky voice finds it way into Alexander's head as he adds in, _More than friends lmao._

_None of you are making me want to confide in you anymore_ , Alexander shoots back. Before he can read Hercules's reply, he feels something stirring at the end of his bed. His head snaps up to see Thomas pushing himself into a sitting position.

Thomas rubs one sleepy eye and yawns, his hair sticking out in every direction, and Alexander nearly blushes from how cute he finds the whole scene.

"You're still up?" Thomas mumbles clumsily, the syllables fumbling around his tongue.

"I don't really sleep," Alexander explains with a shrug, shifting so that Thomas has more room to stretch his legs, curl his toes.

"Ever?"

"I mean, I do sometimes. Just not - often."

"That's not healthy," Thomas reprimands, but there's no emotion behind it. He's clearly too sleepy to form an honest opinion about Alexander's health, more concerned with keeping his droopy eyes open.

"So?"

"So, I don't know, sleep," Thomas shrugs. "Hell, I don't care, actually, just - just stop thinking so loud."

"That doesn't even make sense," Alexander replies, lifting an eyebrow in judgement. Thomas rolls his eyes in the near darkness. Pale moonlight sneaks in through the openings in Alexander's sheer gray curtains, pouring onto Thomas's face, illuminating it in a gentle glow. For just a moment, Alexander lets himself look at him without holding back, admire him unabashedly.

Thomas squints at him. "What is it?"

"What did you mean when you said you didn't know?"

And there he goes again. Just once, Alexander would love to be able to think before he speaks. Just once.

"What?"

Alexader shakes his head and lets out an embarrassed little laugh. "Nothing, I don't know why I said that, it's nothing --"

"What did _you_ mean?" Thomas counters, his unwavering confidence returned. He shifts himself to sit up straighter, crossing his legs beneath him.

With the tables turned, Alexander feels as if he's under such intense scrutiny that he's overly conscious of every move he makes, nervous about how Thomas may interpret that twitch of his hand, that flit of his eye.

"I - I said it - because . . ." Alexander doesn't entirely know why he said it, except he almost does. He almost knows that he has a major crush on Thomas, but he doesn't want to believe it because that's crazy, right? Thomas was his enemy before all this happened, his arch nemesis, the bane of his existence.

And now, that very same person is sitting in his bed after midnight, asking him what he meant when he said he didn't know if he had a crush on him.

Alexander tries to answer honestly.

"I said it because you gave me your lipstick," he says, but that doesn't feel right. "Because you gave me tissues, and advice, and your sweater. But before that you gave me insults and episodes of rage and most often, a headache."

Alexander falters. He isn't sure where he's going with this, but he's pretty sure he'll find out when he gets there. He lets himself keep talking.

"And it's weird, because I feel like we're breaking some rule, like fate decided we were supposed to be enemies, but then all this happened, and we're not anymore, and everything is gonna go to hell because we're too stubborn to get back on track just because some _predetermined destiny_ tells us to."

He laughs to himself a little, trying not to feel so embarrassed by this monologue that seems to be heading into a more poetic direction than he had intended.

"We're not bad people who break rules just to break them, y'know? We're good people - mostly - who break rules usually because they're unfair and unjust, and this rule that I think we're breaking - I think it's unfair. Because it feels like all the time we spent hating each other was such a waste of time. Like, we could've been sharing lipstick and doing homework together for three years, but we were following that _rule_ , and now we're breaking it, so what happens now? Does the universe implode? Do we spontaneously combust?"

Alexander realizes he's rambling now, his point has been made. He coughs awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with Thomas, who has remained suspiciously quiet through his whole spiel.

Thomas looks at him with his dark eyes. He shows now sign of emotion, his face blank, his body still. Alexander is almost going stir crazy from Thomas's lack of reaction.

Until finally, Thomas says, "Yeah. That's what I meant too."

Alexander doesn't know what to say, what to think. He simulatneously knows and doesn't know what Thomas is saying. Is he saying that he feels the same way about him? Because that's what it sounds like, but Alexander really doesn't want to get his hopes up just to be let down later.

But in the quiet of the room, understanding settles around them like dust resting on their shoulders. In the universe, they are where they are, they're doing what they're doing, and it would take a force of nature to stop them at this point.

So they smile. They lie back down, crawl under the blankets, and shut their eyes, legs and ankles and toes brushing.

Thomas has given him many gifts, Alexander reflects, but none of them have been more satisfying or beautiful than this: a place in the vast universe for both of them to share.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm about to upload the rest of the chapters, so it will be complete soon!!! I'm so sorry it's taking so long, but thank you so much for sticking with me!!!!! 
> 
> (btw today is my brother's birthday and tomorrow is mine and I'm excited!!)


	12. A Confession

The next morning passed, and so did the next, and the next, and the interactions between Alexander and Thomas became sparse. They were comfortable after that night, they were warm, but the next school day, they just smiled at each other and kept doing what they were doing.

Alexander was rushed after school a few days in a row, whether his friends had plans or his foster parents did, and he hadn't been able to visit what he had affectionately dubbed _their bathroom_. He secretly hoped Thomas went there on the days he couldn't, hoping to see him or walk home with him or share more makeup tips with him.

And honestly, this time without really interacting with Thomas is kind of driving Alexander crazy. He's not so invested that he's devastated, but strangely, he misses him. They still debate a little in class, of course, but since they get along better, there's not too much to debate over, seeing as before, half of their arguments had been petty insults.

The first day Alexander gets to go to their bathroom after school is Friday. He's wearing the glossy peach lipstick that he thought Thomas liked. He tries to convince himself he's wearing it because he likes it, too, and he does - but he really knows it's to impress Thomas.

Speak of the devil - Thomas swings the door open to the bathroom and walks in, head peering around, seemingly searching or Alexander, who grins.

"You're here," Alexander says, feeling happier than he ought to.

Thomas raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. "So are you. Finally."

Alexander is almost taken aback. "Uh, yeah, sorry, I've been really busy --"

"You've barely talked to me at all this week," Thomas replies, shrugging as if he thinks it's no big deal, but Alexander knows better. Thomas's body language tells him that it _is_ a big deal.

"I'm really sorry," Alexander says, though he knows it sounds weak.

"No, yeah, I get it," Thomas shrugs, not meeting Alexander's eyes. "Busy life."

Alexander looks at him sadly, and he suddenly realizes how much he really missed Thomas in the past few days, even if his presence had never been extremely substantial. It felt almost like _everything_.

Alexander shakes his head. "No, it's - I mean, yeah, I've been busy, but it's not cool. I'm sorry."

Thomas finally turns to face him, eyebrows furrowed. Behind Thomas's eyes, Alexander can see the gears turning, words being tossed around to find the best combination.

Thomas breathes in deeply and clenches his jaw. "You're right. It's _not_ 'cool.'"

Alexander's expression twists into one of sadness and regret. He wants to reach out to Thomas, maybe take his hand or give him a hug and apologize again, but Thomas speaks first.

He sounds weary and resigned as he asks, "What are you doing, Hamilton?"

Alexander furrows his eyebrows. "What --"

"Is this a joke? A prank?" Thomas interrupts, stepping forward and getting more upset. "Did your friends dare you to be my friend or something?"

"What?" Alexander exclaims, caught off-guard by the sudden attack. "No!"

"Did you just want to see how high you could get me before you knocked me right back down?" Thomas argues, stepping even closer, his voice and anger rising. "Is this just some game to you?"

"What are you talking about?" Alexander demands near-frantically. He feels helpless to Thomas's hurt, to his anger. He just wants to know why Thomas is thinking this and how he can fix it, make things go back to how they almost were.

"You know what's I'm talking about!" Thomas answers, throwing his hands up, exasperation and desperation flooding his tone. "Did you fuck with me on purpose? Make me think I have a chance and then ignore me for a week to -- to do what? Just mess me up? Finally prove that you're the smart one and I'm the dumb idiot who'll fall for anything?"

"I don't understand what you're saying!"

"That night when you told me what you meant when you said you didn't know," Thomas seethes, his voice dropping dangerously low, "I thought you meant it. I thought it was real." He stares long and hard at Alexander, icy eyes looking right into his own. Thomas shakes his head bitterly. "I thought wrong."

"It _was_ real, Thomas!" Alexander defends as the other walks away. "It _is_ real! I don't understand!"

"For someone so brilliant, you really can be stupid," Thomas rolls his eyes, turning back to face Alexander. "You'd think you'd realize after all this that I love you. But I guess it doesn't matter anymore."

Alexander tries to stammer out a reply as Thomas turns and stalks away, jaw clenched, but all the words in his head get jumbled before they reach his mouth.

Thomas walks right out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please forgive all the typos that i'm sure are there, i'm still doing this on wordpad which is just shy of absolutely terrible. 
> 
> if this entire thing feels rushed, honestly that's because it is, i wrote chapters 11, 12, and 13 last night almost all at once, i just really needed to finish this, for myself and for all of you
> 
> the next and final chapter will be up in a few minutes!!!


	13. A Kiss

Alexander finally regains his ability to function. He rushes out the bathroom door and into the hallway, filled with cheerleaders and dance team members and volleyball players getting ready for practice.

Alexander jumps up and weaves around people to find Thomas. Finally, he spots that bushy mop of hair.

"THOMAS!" he screams, louder than all the chatter echoing in the hallway. He catches the attention of everyone in the hall. They turn to look at him, expecting the usual outbreak of an argument that ensues between the two students.

Thomas stops in his tracks reluctantly and spins slowly on his heel. "What?" he spits bitterly.

The tension in the hallway builds. Alexander takes two small steps forward, but there's still almost a whole hallway length between them.

Alexander practically yells, "I wasn't fucking with you."

He takes a step.

"I was being serious. The whole time."

Another step.

"When I told you what I meant when I said I didn't know - I wasn't lying. I meant it."

Step.

"I fucked up. I get it. And I'm sorry. I got busy and I wasn't thinking. But I missed you, the whole time."

Step, step.

"I didn't - I didn't realize what you were feeling. I'm not good at that."

Step, step, step, step.

"But you have to know -"

Step, step. They're close now. Thomas's eyes are hiding what he's thinking, but Alexander thinks he might have an idea. A smile twitches on his lips.

"I love you, too."

Silence. Nobody else in the hall moves a muscle. This is so surreal, so unexpected.

Thomas steps forward, and Alexander is so ready for a heavy kiss, for a smash, for heat - but Thomas just shakes his head. A chuckle escapes his throat. He gets right up to Alexander's face, their noses almost touching.

Thomas almost smiles. "You're still stupid."

Alexander laughs, and Thomas presses their lips together gently, taking Alexander by the waist and pulling him closer sweetly. Alexander inhales sharply, his eyes closing as he leans into the kiss, grabbing at Thomas's arms to brace himself.

Their lips glide softly, and the world around them has stopped even moreso than before. This is so much better than Alexander had possibly imagined. Ha! Alexander Hamilton, kissing Thomas Jefferson - a few weeks ago, he would have thought the idea repulsive.

But now, their lipsticks mix and blend and smear, Alexander's glossy peach colliding with Thomas's matte beige.

When they pull away, Alexander almost expects the students around them to start clapping and cheering and whooping and hollering, because that's what it feels like inside his head. But everyone else just gives them a weird look and goes back to their conversations, some of them laughing about the events that just transpired. Alexander can't find it in him to care, because Thomas is still holding him tight by the waist, keeping him close. Their noses brush as Thomas smiles, then giggles, then just laughs outright, and Alexander can't help but join in.

It's so ridiculous, the thought of them, together, but it makes so much sense that it's annoying that they never saw it before.

Alexander laughs, "You're still stupid too."

"As if," Thomas rolls his eyes, but kisses him again anyway.

***

"So, let me get this straight," John begins, looking at Alexander and Thomas, who are sitting across from them at the local diner, where they had called everybody together to share the news. "Alex basically ignored you for a week, and then jumped straight into making out."

Alexander blushes, and Thomas laughs over at him. "That's not _exactly_ what happened, but essentially yes."

Lafayette raises an eyebrow. "If Hercules or John ignored me for a week, they would wake up to find strawberry jam in all of their socks."

Thomas laughs out loud, "That was my next move."

"This is wild," Hercules chuckles, shaking his head. "I'm usually pretty good at matchmaking -"

"No, you're not," Lafayette and John both interrupt. Hercules glares over at them.

"But I never would have thought you two together would work."

Alexander shrugs, taking Thomas's hand under the table. "Me either. But he's just annoying enough for me to want to keep him around.

"Sickening," John jokes, making a fake face of disgust. They all laugh, and Hercules slaps John playfully on the arm before pressing a quick kiss to his temple.

They eat their meals and make jokes, and Thomas blends in with them perfectly. After a while, James Madison arrives at Thomas's request, and after hearing the news, he is entirely unsurprised and makes it known that he had predicted it since freshman year.

As they all leave, heading in their respective directions, Alexander finds himself almost speechless. This beautiful thing has happened to him so suddenly. It's come upon him out of nowhere, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

The only thing he can think to say is, "I'm so glad I stole your lipstick."

Thomas chuckles and pulls him closer. "I'm glad I let you _keep_ the lipstick. Among other things."

Alexander raises an eyebrow. "Other things?"

Thomas smiles cheekily. "Me."

Alexander rolls his eyes. "You're so cheesy."

"You love me."

"I really do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S DONE I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR STICKING WITH ME AND NOT SENDING ME MEAN MESSAGES OR COMMENTS I APPRECIATE THAT SO MUCH THANK YOU
> 
> I HOPE YOU ENJOYED AND I HOPE THIS WHOLE EXPERIENCE HASN'T TURNED YOU AWAY FROM THE REST OF MY WRITING 
> 
> this thing started out as an indulgent one-shot about lipstick and then turned into a whole ordeal, but i'm glad it did and i'm glad i finally finished it
> 
> thank you so much again <33
> 
> (btw feel free to message me on instagram @a.lexnb )


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